


Making the Grade

by theimaginesyouneveraskedfor



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes - Freeform, F/M, Professor AU, but not entirely, kinda noncon, more smutty than anything, so please tread carefully
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-15 11:28:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18498028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theimaginesyouneveraskedfor/pseuds/theimaginesyouneveraskedfor
Summary: The reader tries to hand in her paper late but Professor Barnes is a real hard ass.





	Making the Grade

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: slight non/dubcon elements, rough sex, oral sex, masturbation.
> 
> This is (dark)Professor!Bucky and explicit. 18+ only.
> 
> Another raffle prize! Hope you all enjoy some sexy professor Barnes. Let me know in the comments. <3

For any other college student, Friday night meant the party was just beginning. But for you and the twenty other students in Warfare in the Twentieth Century, it was yet another class. It was the most dreaded slot in the schedule. Any professor was certain to have barely fifty-percent attendance and any student desperate enough to attend was faced with a weekly sense of FOMA. Really, for everyone, it was a bad time.

Well, except for Professor Barnes. Of the twenty-one students who hadn’t dropped his weekend-crushing course, sixteen of them were female; including you. It was a poorly kept secret why and you often rolled your eyes at the obvious dopey grins which spread across the faces of your fellow pupils. All along the front rows they sat, elbows on the small table attached to their seats, leaning forward as they admired every move made by the dark-haired instructor. You doubted their attention went so far as actually comprehending his words.

You couldn’t deny that he was an attractive man. He was probably the hottest man you had ever seen in person and yet you opted to hide in the middle rows, slouching as you typed away. Your sole study buddy in the class, Colton, sat at your side, munching on Doritos as he listened. Despite his lack of notes, he had aced every paper so far and you, well, you were struggling. And behind. 

Even if this class wasn’t scheduled at the cusp of the weekend, you’d be pent up all until Monday buried under textbooks and academic journals as you struggled to keep stride with your workload. It wasn’t that you were lazy, merely overly-committed. You spent Saturday afternoons at the food bank volunteering, other evenings spent at the library as a an aide to first-years in the writing clinic, and the small amount of time left between classes you spent studying. College was not such a party for you.

Even now, rather than taking lecture notes you were typing away at the paper due Sunday night for that very class. You doubted you’d get it done in time but you were determined to spend every second trying to do just that. It didn’t help that you found yourself distracted by Professor Barnes’ voice every now and then, looking up to find him standing before the front row, describing in detail the tactics developed during the Pacific campaign. You should have been enthralled as it was a topic you actually knew a lot about but instead you were drawn to how his rolled sleeves bunched just beneath his biceps, nearly bursting through the fabric. Goddamn, don’t be like the rest of these daydreaming fools. You had a GPA you actually cared about.

And then he looked higher. His blue eyes catching your guilty ones as you tried to look like you had actually deciphered his words.  _Why the fuck had you chosen Monte Cassino?_  The Italian front was your least favourite.  _Whatever._  It didn’t matter, you had to make this sound logical. You blinked at him until he turned his attention elsewhere, his hand drawing out the battle lines in the air. Describing the Japanese bunkers and the coral rock of Peleliu. You could read the slides later but you had to get this draft finished.

“Well, I think I’ll do you all a favour tonight. Go enjoy your Fridays a whole…” He checked his watched, “Twenty minutes early.” He clapped his hands together, “But remember you owe me. Next Saturday,” The class groaned, “I know, I know, I have a life to, you know? Anyways, open house in my office next Saturday. Midterm marks, comments, questions, everything you need to be successful in this course. Please, _try_  to make an appearance.” He pleaded casually but you could here the genuine quality in his voice, “Ten minutes each. I’ll be there noon to five. That’s all.”

“Jesus, Saturday,” Colton grumbled as you were dismissed and he stood, draining the last of his Monster, “He must be desperate. I don’t even know any faculty who are here on Saturdays. The last time I was in the history building on a weekend, I swear I had a paranormal experience.”

“Well, I might just have to do it to get in his good graces. I doubt I’ll get my paper in on time.” You whined, “I should have dropped this when I had the chance.”

“You can’t abandon me like that,” He kidded as you walked down the steps, Professor Barnes was behind his desk packing up as a mob of his fans preened over him. They didn’t really have any real questions, just relative enough to justify their presence. You sighed and looked to Colton. “I guess I should wade into the herd and try to talk myself into an extension…I’ll see you later.”

“I can wait,” He offered.

“I don’t think so. With this crowd, I’ll be here forever. Besides, I know Devin’s waiting for you. Some sports thing tonight or whatever.” You shrugged.

“Yeah, some sports thing,” He scoffed, “Try to wait for them to disperse. They might bite.”

He smirked as he left you to wait for the gradual thinning of giddy college girls. You couldn’t deny that your professor was of the few attractive individuals among the faculty but you weren’t delusional. He was your teacher and by no means a love interest. College was not meant for romance but rather stupid mistakes to reminisce on when you were old and boring.  _Ha, sure._ You had entered your boring phase the moment you stepped on campus.

Finally, the last pair of students left and you tentatively approached Professor Barnes. He raised a brow, the exasperation plain on his face. You hoped that because you rarely bothered him he’d take it easy on you. 

“Hey,” He greeted, setting his bag on his desk as if to communicate his impatience to be gone. “Y/N, is it?”

“Uh, yeah,” You smiled shyly, “I’m sorry. I know you wanna go as bad as everyone else but I just um, wanted to talk to you about the paper. I…” You bit your lip guiltily and looked down, “I don’t know if I’ll be able to finish on time.”

“No?” He said, his tone unyielding, “Well, you’ve known the deadline since week one so I don’t see how it should be a problem now.”

“I know, I just–” You looked back up at him and sighed. It was useless. “Okay, no. I just figured I’d ask.”

He glanced around the room as he thought. “Look, do what you can and hand it in. We can talk about it next Saturday at the open house. If it’s a complete disaster, I’ll consider a rewrite.” He looked down at you pointedly, “ _Consider_.” He repeated sternly.

“Okay,” You nodded eagerly, “Alright, okay. Thank you.”

“We’ll see,” He reminded you, hooking his bag over his shoulder, “Now please, let me go home.”

You actually laughed at that and he ushered you to the door, closing it behind him. The two of you took different paths in the hallway and you let out a breath of relief as you turned the next corner. A little breathing room.

***********

Well, it wasn’t enough. It had been a week and you were still fighting to finish your paper, adding footnotes, adjusting format, inserting points you had completely glossed over. You had failed to hand it in as you saw the pathetic mess as barely worth the bother of anyone trying to read it. Instead you were going to get it right and beg mercy at the open house. Even if it took all night.

_Which it did._ You fell asleep as the sun peeked in your dorm window, your face across the keyboard. You awoke with a jolt, your screen with a dozen calculators sprawled over it. You closed all thirty-six and printed out your final copy. You looked at the time in the corner and your heart jumped.  _Shit! It was already five-thirty!_ You got to your feet, stumbling as you pulled your canvas jacket over your tank top, not even bothering with a bra; you would keep your jacket zipped up. You stuffed your feet into your vans, sweatpants rolled halfway up your ankles as you seized your keys  and paper and charged out the door.

Your sides were burning as you reached the history building and tossed yourself into the ancient elevator, bracing yourself against the wall as it slowly lurched upward. You stepped out into the maze of upper hallways and grumbled. You hated the way these offices were laid out as if David Bowie had stolen your baby brother. First you ended up at a set of seemingly forgotten washrooms and then by some records storage, and finally, you felt like you were on the right path; all the signs told you so at least.

_‘Professor B. Barnes’_ was etched into a placard pointing to the next hall. You turned the corner, hoping he had lingered to finish up his teaching work or maybe another student was overstaying their welcome. As you neared, you realized how empty the building was. And quiet. Colton was right; there had to be ghosts up here.

You heard a moan and it all but confirmed your suspicions.  _Was it worth possession to hunt down a likely empty office?_ The moan came again and you tilted your head.  _No, that was a human._  It was deep and luring. You looked at the square clock on the wall; quarter to six. You crept forward, the door denoting  _‘Prof. B. Barnes, M.A’_. The door looked as if it had fallen open and you got closer and closer, the noise coming from within. Slowly you pushed the door inward, poking your head around and gasping.

The back of a leather chair faced you, a head of dark hair pressed against the top of it as it rocked and the moaning continued.  _Oh, fuck._  It stopped as the small wisp escaped your lungs, giving away your intrusion and you dropped the paper as you turned to flee before he could turn fully to you. Apparently no one else had shown up and your professor had chosen to take advantage of it. 

_Oh god, you’d just have to take the fail._

You weren’t so lucky as that. You were pulled back as your name bounced down the empty corners of the hallway. You turned back and Professor Barnes released you, his face calm as if he hadn’t been caught. As if you hadn’t seen anything. “You’re late.” He said. He held your paper in his hand, “So’s this.” He held it up.

“I know,” You said weakly, unsure what else to say. You certainly didn’t want to talk about what you had walked in on. “But…I’m sorry, I just, I worked so hard on it.”

He shook his head, looking at the title page of your paper as he flicked it. “Right then, let’s talk and maybe you can convince me.” He stepped aside, standing parallel to the wall as he waited for you to precede him to the office. You were torn between flight and one last grasp at a passing grade. You took the latter and passed him, wringing your hands as you returned to his office.  _If you acted like nothing had happened, then it didn’t, right?_

He followed you, keeping a few feet behind as you sat in the chair which faced his on the other side of the desk. You quirked your lips as you waited for him, the door clicking shut as he entered. _Shit._  You clutched your knees and hunched forward as he rounded to the other side and sat, steadying your paper on the edge of his desk as he flipped to the intro. He sighed and sat back, letting it go as he slid it onto the desktop.

“I really can’t make exceptions,” He said, “I’m sorry. It looks like a well-written paper but it just wouldn’t be fair. Don’t you think? I mean, how would you feel?”

You nodded and looked down, ready to just leave. He hadn’t even given you a chance.  _Did he get off on making students squirm?_  Well, I mean he got off on something judging by his previous activity. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I should–”

“You’d have to have a very convincing reason to make me change my mind,” He interrupted, staring at you as the corner of his mouth twitched. “So, why should I even read this?” He tapped the desk with his finger.

“I…I…” You stuttered, “I’ve just been so busy and I wanted it to be perfect. Between volunteering and all my other classes, which I’m also behind in, I just couldn’t…get my shit together, I guess.”

“Mmm,” He leaned back in his chair as he considered you. Still he didn’t really look mad. You rubbed your neck and he seemed please by the show of nerves. “And you didn’t ask Colton for help? You and him seem close?”

“We study together,” You explained, “But I mean, he’s not much of a help. He’s like an encyclopedia without pages. He doesn’t really write stuff down.”

“You see him often?” He asked.

“Uh, in class, sometimes we meet up at the library,” You forehead creased in confusion, “What does it matter?”

“So you and him, you’re not…” He raised a brow, “I mean. You’re both young college students, it only seems natural.”

“No, no,” You could have laughed, “Ew, no. He’s like a brother; the kind who puts gum in your hair and ketchup packets on your chair.”

He narrowed his eyes, pleased with your answer. He shifted in your chair. “It’s a big campus, there must be a guy.”

“I don’t have time for guys,” You huffed, growing tired of his interrogation. “Look, either you’re going to read it or I’m going to fail. Either one, I’d just like a straight answer.”

“Woah,” He braced the edge of his desk, standing up sharply, “I am your professor. Show me a little respect.” He leaned on the desktop, his tongue poking out and running across his bottom lip as he stared you down. “Take off your jacket.”

“Why–” He raised his hand in a gesture for silence, tilting his head in warning.

“So far you’ve not been very convincing so why don’t you put some effort into it,” He smirked, “Jacket.” He snapped his fingers and you stared up at him and gripped the arms of the chair.

Your mouth opened and shut without a response and you slowly reached up to tug on your zipper, pulling it down as the sound ruffled your nerves. You let it fall open, revealing the grey shirt which barely concealed your nipples. He touched his shoulders, a silent order to remove it. You obeyed, the process awkward as you remained in the chair.

He watched every move and you realized his eyes had strayed from your face, quickly finding the thin fabric of your tee. “I like my students to be comfortable with me,” He methodically stepped around the desk, looking down on you as he came up behind you, “When you’re in my office, I want you to relax,” He gathered your hair in his hands, “And I want you to _listen_.” He tightened his grip on your locks and pulled your head back so you stared up at him. “I know that’s not one of your better skills.”

Your face burned at his words. It was true that you rarely paid attention in his lecture but it was for good reason. One of his hands snaked around, spreading across your throat as he bent down to speak into your ear. “So, do you think you can change my mind or should I just mark this as zero in the books?” You gulped as his lips grazed your cheek, his breath singing you.

“Wh-what do you want me to do?” You asked in a whisper.

“Ugh,” He groaned, standing as he kept hold of your hair, his other hand playing with the neckline of your tee shirt. “I’ve been asking myself that for the last month. What  _do_  I want you to do? Hell, what don’t I want you to do?”

You were shocked. You had been certain you had barely been noticed past the flock of fan girls and yet it seemed the center of attention had kept all of his on you. He knew you sat with Colton and that you never listened. Well, it was easy enough for you not to notice as you were often halfway through a breakdown over your latest assignment.

“First, I want you naked,” He tugged your hair before letting go entirely, stepping back. “Stand and turn around.”

You rose and did as he said, his arms crossed as he waited and watched. You undressed one piece at a time. Vans slipping off as easily as they were donned, jeans unbuttoned with trembling fingers, slid down your thighs, tee shirt messing your hair as you shivered, your panties the last of your defenses. You hesitated before rolling them down, his gaze glued to your breasts at you bent to remove them. Thus you stood before him, bare and desperate for that A. And maybe something more.

“Stay there,” He neared but you were surprised as he passed you. You stood stalk still, listening at the sound of rustling paper and little clicks and clacks. He returned to your view and looked you up and down, his mouth slanted in a lurid grin. “On the desk. Turn around and on all fours.”

“Okay,” You said feebly and made to turn but he caught your arm.

“Call me Professor,” He squeezed your arm before releasing you.

“Yes Professor,” You uttered as you spun around.

You neared the desk, setting your hands on the cleared wooden surface before willing yourself forward. With one leg up, you were already exposed. The next and you were on full display, steadying yourself on hands and knees. You could feel the cool air along your pussy as warmth settled there. Rough hands scared you as they ran the length of your thighs, kneading your ass and spreading your cheeks for a better look at your pussy. You shook and he purred in approval at your reaction.

He pressed against your ass, leaning his weight on you until you felt his lips along your folds teasing you before delving deeper. You gasped at the first taste, the tip of his tongue poking at your entrance, your arousal spilling forth. He ran the length of your sex until he flicked your clit, the twitch it elicited made him snicker into your flesh. He dragged his tongue along your clit again, grazing it over and over as you pelvis flinched unwillingly.

“Ah,” You hissed, trying not to moan though it felt so good. You couldn’t believe this was happening. You were letting your instructor eat you out for a grade. It was like some poorly produced erotica. You clung to the edge of the desk, pushing your back end high as the first whine escaped you, the buzzing blooming and spreading down your legs. Your thighs trembled as he grew more persistent, his tongue agile as it drew forth an orgasm. It had been almost a year since you had been pleasured by more than silicone.

Your breath was laboured as you fell to your elbows, reeling in the after waves. His hands snaked around your legs and pulled them back off the desk, your feet barely reaching the floor as you were bent over. You heard his fly followed by a sigh and a prod along your ass. He guided his tip along your skin until he reached your entrance, hovering there as his hand spread on your lower back. “Now it’s turn. What do you want me to do?”

You lifted your head, looking over your shoulder as reality broke through your haze. You pouted, mortified as you realized there was only one answer. “I…” You swallowed your nerves and forced out your voice, “I want you to fuck me, Professor.”

He smirked and pushed inside roughly, allowing you no resistance as he filled you entirely. He was bigger than you expected. You dropped your head down on your forearm as you let out a low growl. He thrust sharply, allowing a moment between each as you were jolted into the desk. His hand was still on your back, holding you down as he slid in and out. Your pussy thrummed and you murmured in delight as each thrust against your sensitive walls sent a thrill up your spine.

As his motion steadied and his thrust grew closer together, your hips crashed against the lip of his desk and he began to groan. His voice was foggy as he spoke, slapping your ass so that it stung. “Naughty girl,” *slap* “Handing in your paper late.” *slap* “I don’t give easy A’s in my class.” *slap* He gripped your hips, hammering into you as you helplessly bounced against the desk, a withdrawn moan rising as another orgasm shook you.

He pulled out of you, forcing you back and you stood on wobbly legs. He pushed on your shoulders until you relented and fell to your knees before him. You stared up at him, his cock hanging out of his open pants, the untucked tails of his shirt forming a v around the base. He looked to his length, reaching out to clamp your head between his hands and drew you close. “You gotta work hard if you want to pass,” He gristled as his tip slipped past your lips and you opened wider and wider with each inch.

As he entered your throat and met his limit, you slapped your palms against his thighs, gripping him as he led your mouth along his cock. You relaxed your jaw, keeping your tongue taut against his length as he bobbed your head up and down himself, his pelvis working just as hard as he fucked your face. Despite your gags, he did not relent, your nails digging into his flesh. He sank deeper than before as he groaned and you felt a sudden burst of warmth, his cum leaking down your throat as you did your best to swallow, afraid you would choke.

He didn’t remove himself until he was empty, the last drops of his cum and your saliva dripping down your chin. You leaned forward, holding yourself up on shaky arms. He put his cock back in his pants, zipped them up and tucked in his shirt. He knelt before you, his fingers on your chin as he forced you to look at him. “I’ll read it.” He smiled, his thumb rubbed your cheek as you panted at him wordlessly, “Five percent docked for late submission.”


End file.
